These works belong to a larger collection that draw on the highly ambiguous medieval poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (circa 1380). I have tried to use the imagery the poem provides to reflect on masculinity, nation and the subjects inter-relationship with spatial features. Personal autonomy is a key theme of the poem and the flawed but sympathetic subject Gawain is at his most circumscribed and least independent in the controlled (safe) spaces of Arthur's court, a growing symbol in my practice of a corrupt stratified society aligned with fantasies of permanence and hyper-masculinity. Alternatively, the life threatening wilderness, especially the haunting and eerie Green Chapel (a remote natural fissure and the site of Gawain's final testing) is treated as a threshold or liminal space encouraging subjective change. To explore these ideas I have drawn on various painting registers (and processes). The works here show the Green Chapel in three iterations. Firstly, represented in a cavity in the fallen head of the Green Knight, conflating the moment of horror (the severed speaking head of the eponymous monster with the final space of Gawain's testing) see The reproachful Head of the Green Knight (2020). Secondly, as a destination on the horizon in The Slime of Life Clings to Sir Gawain (2021) emitting an eerily green light. Finally, in Green Chapel (2021) as a liminal space defined by persistent plant life and ancient rock, the medieval spelling of the word 'abide' is wrought on the cave wall by the Green Knight's disembodied hand in a direct reference to Rembrandt's Belshazzar's Feast (1635-1638). In the poem that word is spoken as a reproach to Gawain's impatient approach while the reference to the biblical story (and Rembrandt's painting) is an attempt to make clear the implications, Gawain (and chivalry moreover) will be found wanting and the writing is on the wall.